


Becoming Loki

by Graphite_crumble



Series: The Chronicles of Gabriel [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gabriel's previous vessels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graphite_crumble/pseuds/Graphite_crumble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Gabriel found his true vessel and became Loki the Trickster God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Loki

**Author's Note:**

> Italics indicate a characters thoughts and mental conversation. 
> 
> About Gender: Gabriel refers to him/her/their self depending on what vessel they occupy at the time. Hopefully it seems clear when you read it, but I'm explaining here just in the sudden change in pronouns confuses people.

Gabriel yawned loudly, and settled back in the bed, resting her tired limbs. The skin on the back of her hand was flaking, and she dimly registered the discomfort. This body was wearing thin. A pity, she’d grown fond of this form. It wasn’t her true vessel, but it was somewhere along the bloodline. It had held the Archangel for close to fourteen decades, the longest any of them had managed so far.

With a sigh, Gabriel reached for the hand mirror beside the bed and held it before her, surveying the damage. Her beautiful dark skin was beginning to crack and blister, and the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. Grey streaked the tight, black, curls of her hair. Gabriel wondered how long she had left.

The vessels original owner had left the body around six decades after she consented to Gabriel. Although the body of a filled vessel did not age as a normal mortal would, the human soul could only live so long on the Earth. As a result, once Gabriel left the vessel, it would be truly dead. It was unavoidable, but it still saddened her.  
  
Gabriel laid the mirror back down on the nightstand and closed her eyes. She slept more and more each day, a dreamless rest that didn’t bring much relief to the physical weariness. Her once powerful muscles were rapidly weakening, her stomach demanded sustenance and her heart fluttered weakly in her chest.

She contemplated the pain. It was unpleasant, but so very human. She savoured it, her mind seeking out every nerve and cell, a brief farewell tour of this familiar skin. Her lips parted and Gabriel said goodbye, their essence flowing from the body it had worn for 137 years. The empty vessel ceased breathing and its heart stopped abruptly.

Soaring into the night, invisible to the human eye, they turned their attention to finding a new vessel. Gabriel doubted anybody was still looking for them after all this time, but they still didn’t like being exposed like this. Raphael and Michael would no doubt demand that Gabriel return home to “fill the roles Father had intended for them.” Well, to hell with that. Father hadn’t returned to punish Gabriel for leaving, so how bad could it be?

Gabriel pushed thoughts of heaven from their mind as they soared on, searching for an acceptable vessel. They grew increasingly frustrated as nothing revealed itself. There was always a vessel. Perhaps they were overlooking something. Maybe they were a child again. Gabriel hoped not. They’d once spent 27 years as a 10 year old boy. It was severely limiting and they’d felt cruel asking someone so young to serve as a vessel. They left as soon as another vessel had been born and grown to adulthood. The vessel had survived and gone on to live a fairly decent life, but still…

_There?_

Gabriel paused somewhere over a cold northern country. They could feel something calling them, but it was strained, weakened…They flew down to find the source.

A man sat on an intricately carved wooden chair at the head of a great feast, sipping from a silver cup. His golden eyes sparkled with mischief and his pale skin was flushed pink by the mead he drank. He didn’t seem bothered by the freezing temperature, despite being clad in only simple woollen clothes. The light around him marked him as Gabriel’s vessel but something was wrong. Fury filled Gabriel as they realised what it was.

Something was already occupying him. A twisted presence had seated itself within him, forcing its way in without the need for permission. Gabriel recognised it as a pagan deity. Gabriel had always found their existence to be a strange mystery. Why had their father created all this just to let other beings claim credit? This one did not seem particularly powerful, but it still presented a problem. How could the vessel give consent to be Gabriel’s if something else controlled it?

The man looked out over the hall in which he sat, watching the revelry before him. For a brief moment, his eyes passed over the spot where Gabriel hovered, and Gabriel knew they had been seen.

_Help me!_

Gabriel heard the soul call to them from the prison the pagan had made of his body. They felt hope and drew nearer. So the vessel’s soul could still be reached. Perhaps this was not such a problem after all. Tentatively, they reached out with their grace, wary of alerting the pagan deity to their presence.

The man’s soul was curled tightly within the vessel, smothered by the dark green stain that was controlling his body. Gabriel brushed against it, and thoughts poured into them.

 _Please…please…make it stop. Make it end. The things he made me do…kill us, please….free me…_ the soul begged.

 _I can stop your suffering. But know that I also seek to take your form for myself._ Gabriel responded. They would not lie to him. He had endured enough.

_Gods, why?_

_There is only one God, mortal, and I am his Archangel, You are my chosen vessel; my body here on Earth. But it will not be like it is now. I can protect you from the pain. What I do, you will not feel._

The pagan stirred uneasily. He sensed something wrong, though he did not know what. The dark green coiled tightly around the mortals shining soul, making sure it was still firmly trapped.

_Then have it. Have my body, just destroy the fiend that has taken it, I beg you!_

_You give your consent?_ asked Gabriel.

 _Yes!_ The soul responded desperately.

It was enough. Gabriel poured itself into the vessel, and raged against the deity inside. It panicked, fighting back, but it was no match. The silver cup clanged to the ground as the man’s body twitched violently, the only sign of the struggle within. A serving woman turned to look, but it was already over.

Gabriel burnt the vile creature – _Loki,_ the vessels memories informed him – into nothing, and settled in to his rightful place. He closed his eyes for just a moment, letting himself adjust to this skin. It was blissful. He bent down to retrieve the cup he’d been holding. The movement was relaxed and natural, as if he’d always been this person. Gabriel sat back, a smile on his new face. This was it. His true vessel, the one he’d waited so long for.

He quickly remembered his host and sought him out, still huddled down within him. The mortal’s soul was soothed by Gabriel’s presence and he had no wish to disturb it. He covered it with a shell that would keep it locked away, oblivious and free from pain until it’s time on this earth was up, and turned his attention to the memories the vessel had.

This Loki was an unusual creature. Gabriel found himself admiring some of the creative ways he had tricked humans, although his motives were less than pure. Still, it had a certain flair to it. Perhaps it was something to consider. Few would suspect a pagan god to be an archangel in disguise. And it would be so nice to be able to use his powers once more instead of hiding with the humans.

“May I refill you cup, my lord?” the serving girl had made her way back to him, a pitcher of fermented honey clasped in her hands. The way she looked at him suggested she wanted to do much more than quench his thirst.

“Please. Call me Loki.” He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: "Norse serving girl" would go on to be the inspiration for Gabriel's first porn film, "is that a drinking horn or are you just pleased to see me?" (no, I'm not writing that, but smut writers, feel free to knock yourselves out! xD)


End file.
